Schism
by My blue rose
Summary: AU. Time Travel. Harry Potter knows he is a wizard. He knows he is going to Hogwarts, where he will make friends for the first time in his life. He knows this because the Voice in his head told him so. The Voice says it is him from the future but Harry just wishes it would stop trying to take over his body.
1. Prologue: Cracked

**A/N: While I am not the first fanfic writer to invent Schizo!Harry, I think I might be the first to combine it with time travel.**

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**Prologue: Cracked**

It was a beautiful spring day in Little Whinging, Surry. It was warm but there was a cool breeze and the scent of lilacs in the air. Mrs. Petunia Dursley, however, was not enjoying the fine day. She was kneeling in her flower bed planting some perennials to brighten up the front yard. To her left, several yards away, was her young nephew Harry Potter. The boy was pulling weeds, placing them into the basket beside him, all the while muttering softly to himself.

Petunia pursed her lips. It didn't matter how many times she and Vernon had told the boy to stop talking to himself, the boy still did it. They had even locked him in his cupboard for a week. It hasn't stopped him. In fact, you could hear him muttering to himself in the cupboard. The only good thing you could say about it was that most the time he did it so quietly you couldn't understand what he was saying. On those rare occasions when you could understand him...

It sounded like he was having an argument with himself.

It was so abnormal and not a little insane. The whole street had taken to calling him the 'mad lad'. While the Dursley's were grateful for the sympathy they received in raising their mentally ill nephew, they disliked the attention it brought.

It hadn't always been always like this. Four months ago the boy had been almost normal, aside from the freakishness he got from his parents. He was an ungrateful troublemaker, yes, nothing at all like her sweet Dudley. But at least he acted normal most the time. About three months ago that had all changed. It was as if the boy had gone to bed one night and woke up mad.

She supposed she could handle it, if muttering to himself was all the boy had taken up. Around the same time he started talking to himself, the boy's personality seemed to have changed too. Now days, when Petunia asked him to do something instead of resigned acceptance or the occasional defiant refusal he use to give, in response the boy would nod with a blank face and do which she asked.

But that wasn't the strange thing about him. If you watch the boy you noticed that emotions would flicker across his face for no reason at all. She would be sitting at the dinner table, eating silently, staring at his plate while anger, sadness and joy played across his features in quick succession. If he caught you looking at him, his face would resume its expressionless mask.

And he would often stare at nothing for long periods of time or worse, at people.

And this wasn't all. Dudley had always enjoyed roughhousing with the boy at home and at school but two months ago Petunia had met with the boy's teacher because he had viciously attacked Dudley, leaving her poor son bleeding and bruised. The teacher had also caught the boy banging his head violently against a brick wall. When asked why, the boy had said it was because he wanted to voices his head to shut up.

The boy had been locked his cupboard for a month after what he did to Dudley. They heard him screaming at night and it was only Vernon's threats to thrash the boy within an inch of his life that made him stop. It has been a month since the boy was let out of his cupboard and his behavior, while no longer as erratic, was still unusual enough to be noticeable. And the boy _still_ constantly muttered to himself.

It seemed apparent to everyone that the boy called Harry Potter was utterly mad.


	2. Chapter 1: Fractured

**Chapter 1: Fractured**

"Get the mail, boy." His uncle Vernon ordered.

Harry said nothing but stood up from the table, where they were having breakfast, and walked to the living room. There was a small pile of letters by the door underneath the mail slot. Picking them up and idly looking through them, Harry went still when he saw a thick envelope that was addressed to him. It even had his cupboard on it. It had come.

_'__I told you it would.'_

The Other said. Harry ignored him. The truth was, he hadn't really believed the voice when it had told him he was a wizard or that he would be going to a magical school called Hogwarts. It seemed even crazier than having a voice in your head that sometimes attempted to control your body. It also sounded too good to be true.

Harry knew he was a bit odd. Strange things had often happened around him—like that time he had turned his teacher's hair blue and he had recently talked to a snake—but he had never suspected that what he was doing was magic. That is, until three months ago, when he had been sleeping in his cupboard and suddenly wasn't alone in his own head anymore.

The Other, as Harry called him, said that he was Harry Potter from the future. The Other had tried to take over his body and make him do… well, he wasn't quite sure what the Other wanted to do but Harry had fought him. And he had won, sort of. The Other could not fully control him when he resisted but Harry discovered quickly that he could not resist very well if he was feeling really angry or afraid. Or any strong emotion, really.

The worst part was that the Other was able to read Harry's thoughts but Harry couldn't read his. He could feel the Other's emotions, when he was paying attention, but he was afraid to believe anything the Other said. Everyone now thought he was crazy because he talked to the Other out loud. Harry couldn't help it. He was beginning to think he was as mad as people said he was.

The first month had been the worst. They had fought for control of his body every day, with the Other seeming to become increasingly desperate. It was when Dudley and his gang were chasing Harry that he let his fear get the better of him. The Other had taken over completely for the first time. He had attacked Dudley so badly that his cousin was still afraid to come too close to him.

Folding the letter in half, Harry secreted it in the pocket of his trousers (which used to be Dudley's and were three time his size). Though he desperately wanted to read it, Harry knew it would be safer to wait until he was somewhere where his aunt and uncle couldn't see. They hated even the idea of magic and there was no way they would let him go to a school of it.

_'__Good idea. They tried to stop me from reading my letter. Not that it worked.'_

The Other said and Harry felt a mixture of emotions from him. Amusement and nostalgia were the main ones but there was hurt and frustration in there, too. He returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table after handing his uncle the small stack of letters.

"What happened?" Harry muttered. He usually tried to avoid asking the Other questions because he didn't want to encourage him but he couldn't help himself.

_'__Uncle Vernon boarded up the mail slot. That didn't work. They just sent the letters under the door and through chimney. The house was full of them!'_

Harry laughed causing his aunt and uncle to glare at him.

_'__Eventually Uncle Vernon droves us to a shack out on an island, that's when Hagrid broke the door down and gave me my letter. You should have seen the look on Uncle Vernon's face…'_

The Other trailed off and Harry again caught a stream of emotions that weren't his. Wonder, happiness, sadness and regret. The Other never seemed to feel just one thing at once. It was always a bunch of things at the same time.

_'__When have seen and done all the things I have, you'll feel 'a bunch of things at the same time' too.'_

Harry hoped not but didn't respond. He didn't want to get into another argument. Not when he and the Other were getting along, or at least, not fighting all the time. He'd been locked in his cupboard for a month after the Other beat up Dudley. They'd talked a lot while he was shut in the cupboard and had come to a truce…

0-0-0-0-0

**Three Months Previous:**

Harry was laying his cot, staring blindly in the darkness of his cupboard. He had heard the Dursley's go upstairs to bed an hour ago. He didn't dare try to sneak food from the refrigerator for at least another hour. But he was hungry. His stomach growled. At least Aunt Petunia had let him use the bathroom before she went to bed. He didn't think he could have held it for the rest of the night.

"This is all your fault." He told the Other angrily.

_'__I didn't mean for this to happen.'_

"What, you didn't mean to take over my body and attack Dudley?" Harry scoffed.

_'__No, I didn't. I just… acted on instinct'. _

There was a pause, and then,_'I didn't think coming back would be like this.'_

Harry felt the Other's frustration and…fear? What did the Other have to be afraid of?

_'__I have plenty of reasons to be afraid. People will die if I don't save them. And I can't do that if I'm stuck in hear with you.'_

Harry knew the Other wasn't talking about the cupboard.

"Then you shouldn't have come back. If you're really from the future you should have known you'd be stuck with me."

_'__You weren't supposed to survive. I thought I'd have my body to myself.'_

Harry felt the chill of fear run down his spine. If the Other really was him, did that mean he'd become the sort of person who would kill his younger self so he could uses his body? He resolved that he would never do something like that. The Other sighed and Harry felt a roil of emotions from him: pain, regret, sadness and determination.

_'__I have killed a lot of people. Killing a younger version of myself didn't seem any worse that some of the things I have had to do. I should have known that a boy who could throw of the imperious curse at fourteen would put up a good fight.'_

The last thought was full of resignation and…admiration? Of Harry? Was this a trick the Other was playing to attempt to control him again? Harry tensed, preparing for the mental battle he expected would occur at any moment.

_'__Let's make a deal. I'll stop trying to take over, unless there is an emergency—'_

"You'll really stop?" Harry asked, torn between hope and distrust.

_'__If you agree to do what I tell you, five times every day.'_

That was almost as worrying as the Other taking over. Harry's mind whirred with the things he might have to do.

"Three times every day and I'll do it,"

_'__Alright, three times a day'_

Harry could feel the Other's annoyance and, to his surprise, relief. Maybe this could work out after all…

0-0-0-0-0

After breakfast, Harry went to the park that was several blocks away from Privet Drive. It was summer and the park was already packed with children. None of them bothered him as he made his way to the swings and sat down on the one farthest from the slide. With fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope and pulled out the thick parchment within. He read the short letter and list of school supplies twice before asking.

"Where am I supposed to get all this stuff? And how can they be 'awaiting my owl'? I haven't got an owl."

_'__Not yet, but you'll get one soon. You can get all this stuff in London. I'll show you where. Your birthday's coming soon, how would you like to have the best birthday ever?'_

What do you mean?"

_'__You'll see, but first there are some things you need to do...'_


	3. Chapter 2: Diagon Ally

**Chapter 2: Diagon Alley**

That night Harry got ready. He emptied out his school rucksack and filled it with his belongings. He packed his underclothes (those at least fit) and a few items he thought might be useful, like pencils and a ruler. Lastly, he opened an old cigar box (that he'd stolen from a dust bin) which he kept hidden under his cot. Inside were his most treasured possessions: a greenish rock he'd found when he was six, a tooth that had fallen out a few years ago, a blue feather he had found while gardening, a few toys and a box of crayons he'd stolen from school when he was five. Harry debated whether or not to take the broken action figures that had once been Dudley's but decided he was too old for them. The Other snorted but did not say anything.

For three days he watched and waited and then it happened. Mrs. Figg, their neighbor, would usually leave her house once a week to buy cat foot and once Harry was sure she was gone, he got his rucksack and went into the Dursley's backyard. Making sure Aunt Petunia wasn't watching him through the window, he threw his rucksack into Mrs. Figgs backyard, and then scrambled over the fence himself. The back door to 's house had a large cat flap. Harry shoved his rucksack through first and then spent several minutes wriggling through the cat flap which was smaller than it looked.

He emerged sprawled on Mrs. Figg's kitchen floor. Brushing cat hair off himself he asked the Other, "Now what?"

_'__Go to the living room, by the fireplace.'_

Harry did. He was standing in front of what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary fireplace when he jumped and yelled in surprise. He looked down, a cat with gray fur was rubbing up against his leg. He nudged the cat gently out of the way with his foot, laughing nervously.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble," he said, wondering why he had agreed to do this.

_'__Only if you get caught.'_

He could sense the Other's amusement. Harry shook his head. "I still not sure that Mrs. Figg knows about magic,"

_'__You didn't believe me about the letter either,' _the Other pointed out.'_ Look on the mantel for a bag of powder.'_

Harry found a ceramic pot behind a large picture frame of one of Mrs. Figg's many cats. Removing the lid, he found it full of a silvery powder. He sighed in relief and then set about lighting a fire. There was blackened wood already stacked in the grate and he was surprised to see that it was giving off heat. Mrs. Figg must have doused it just before she left, but who had a fire lit when it was summer?

_'__Witches do, or at least, those raised by magical people.'_

It was easy to get the fire going by adding old newspapers (which he found in a basket near the fireplace) and blowing on the wood. He took a handful of the floo powder and put the pot back where he had found it. He threw in the powder and watched the flames turn bright green. The Other had told him that this would happen but it seeing it made him forget to breathe for several moments. Checking one last time that he had put everything back where he had found it, he shouldered his rucksack and stepped into the emerald flames.

Trying to calm his racing heart, he closed his eyes and shouted "Diagon Ally!"

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, tripping on his oversized trousers, and landed hard on a dirty wooden floor. He looked up blinking in the dim light. Hastily standing, he brushed the ash off his clothes while surreptitiously looking around what appeared to be a pub. Two men in black robes were sitting in a corner having lunch. They glanced at him as he came out of the fireplace but were now talking to each other as if ten year old boys falling out of lit fireplaces was a normal occurrence.

A woman was sitting at the bar talking to the toothless barman and sipping something in a small glass. She hadn't so much as glanced at Harry but the barman, when he caught Harry's eye, abandoned the glass he'd been cleaning and came over to him.

"Hello, m'name's Tom. How can I help you, lad?"

"Can you help me get to Diagon Ally?" He asked politely.

"Course I can. Here for your Hogwarts supplies?

"Yes, sir."

Harry followed Tom out into a small courtyard where the man took his wand out of his apron pocket and taped some bricks. Harry smiled as the bricks withdrew to reveal a narrow cobbled street lined with shops. He thanked the barman and strode down the street, trying to act as if he'd been here before while simultaneously looking at all the things for sale and the oddly dressed people selling them. He made his way slowly to the north side of the Alley where there was a large while marble building.

_'__That's Gringott's. Impressive isn't it?'_

Harry nodded, despite himself, and tried not to stare at the goblins standing at the open bronze doors. Inside, there was a long marble hall with many goblins sitting behind counters and innumerable doors lined the walls.

_'__Tell the goblin you would like to make a withdrawal from vault 687. But be polite, goblins can get nasty_.'

Harry felt a mixture distaste and anger from the Other.

"I didn't need you to tell me that…" he muttered, eyeing the nearest goblin warily.

He was tempted to ask more about the Other's experience with goblins but now probably wasn't the time. Swallowing nervously, he made his way to one of the counters.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter. I'd like to make a withdraw from vault 687," he forced a smile.

The goblin stared at him through narrow eyes first at his forehead (trying to look at his scar?) then at Harry's baggy clothes. He—Harry thought the goblin was a he—made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat.

"Do you have a key?" He asked finally.

"No, I don't,' Harry shifted his weight nervously. What if they wouldn't give him his money? Then he would be stuck here with no way to get back to the Dursley's—

"Then we will need a blood sample to prove you really are Harry Potter,"

The goblin took out a small dagger from somewhere and handed it to Harry. He looked at it, not sure what to do with it. The goblin raised its knobby eyebrows at him. Harry flushed and pressed the blade cautiously against his finger. Blood welled up almost immediately; the dagger was very sharp. To his surprise the dagger appeared to be extracting the blood from the small cut. Alarmed, he put it on the counter and sucked his finger. The goblin examined the dagger carefully, for what, Harry couldn't tell. It didn't look any different to him but the goblin seemed satisfied.

"Griphook!" He yelled. Another goblin came to stand beside the counter.

"Take Mr. Potter down to vault 687."

Griphook gave Harry the same look the goblin at the counter did. First he stared intently at his forehead, then critically at his clothes. After he got his money Harry resolved that the first thing he was going to buy were some proper clothes.

_'__What about a wand? I could show you some simple spells.'_

"Clothes first,"

"What?" Griphook looked at him as they climbed into a small cart that sat on rails.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. Griphook eyed Harry suspiciously but didn't say anything.

0-0-0-0-0

Harry emerged from Gringott's carrying more money in his rucksack than he had ever had in his life. Despite the Other's protests, he went into Madam Malkin's Robe's for all Occasions. He was greeted by a middle age witch who, after asking if he was going to Hogwarts, took his measurements. He stood still while she put some robes on him and sized them while saying things like "left sleeve need to be hemmed," And "It's a bit long in the legs but you'll grow into it, dear."

"Madam Malkin?"

"Yes, dear?" She was wrapping his new robes in brown paper.

"Do you do trousers and shirts too? These are a little big," he gestured at his clothes.

"No we don't, sorry dear. But if you've got the gold, Twilfitt and Tatting's do excellent work."

"Thank you,"

He paid her and shoved his new robes in his rucksack. Twilfitt and Tatting's was a short walk from Madam Malkin's. The shop was noticeably nicer than Madam Malkin's with a marble floor that reminded Harry of Gringott's. There was a cream colored chaise lounge in the corner next to a folding screen that had an image of birds flying against a blue sky. The strange thing was that the birds seemed to be moving and clouds drifted across the sky every so often.

"Can I help you?" a condescending voice asked from somewhere behind him.

Harry started and turned to see an older man with severely parted grey hair dressed in black robes with silver embroidery.

"Yes. I need some shirts and trousers please," the man's eyebrows rose.

"This is an exclusive store, young man. I daresay you cannot afford—"

"I can pay." Harry interrupted.

"So you say. I, _however_, will not waste my time—"

Harry responded by opening his rucksack and pulling out the bag of wizard money. The man stopped midsentence and his whole demeanor changed. He gave Harry an elegant bow and led him over to a chaise lounge.

"Please forgive me, young Master. I am Mr. Twilfitt. I am afraid I mistook you for some of the riffraff we sometime get. Please make yourself comfortable,"

Harry down on the chaise lounge while Mr. Twilfitt continued to talk.

"Do you know what kind of shirts you are looking for? I just got in an order of washed silk in a lovely purple—"

"I'm going to Hogwarts and I need a new wardrobe. I'll buy whatever you think I need,"

Mr. Twilfitt smiled so wide his teeth showed.

"What a young gentleman such as yourself needs…" he trailed of humming to himself then withdrew a measuring tape from his pocket and proceeded to measure his arms, legs, waist and shoulders. He then disappeared behind a door that Harry hadn't noticed because it was the same color as the wall. Ten minutes later Mr. Twilfitt emerged again, holding what looked like a bundle of black cloth in his arms.

"Stand behind the screen and get out of," his voice darkened. "Those garments."

Harry did as he was told somewhat surprised to find that the back of the screen contained a mirror. He stood, shivering slightly in his underwear, looking at his reflection. Mr. Twilfitt handed him a pair of black trousers, Harry gasped as they tightened to hug his waist. He supposed he'd never need to wear a belt again.

Harry then put on the shirt. It was black and soft. It had a collar and long sleeves with iridescent white buttons up the front. He looked at himself in the screen mirror, surprised. While he'd never really cared how he looked before he hadn't thought that wearing something that actually fit would make him look so good.

He stepped out from behind the screen. Mr. Twilfitt clapped and smiled. He circled Harry nodding to himself.

"Excellent, most excellent. I'll make you four more pairs of the black linen for everyday wear, under your robes and two white shirts for more formal occasions and …" he looked Harry up and down once again "How about a shirt in green silk, to match your eyes, the young ladies will love it. It's never too young to start looking for a good match, you know?"

Harry blushed, but nodded. He got the feeling the Other was laughing at him, though he hadn't said anything. He exited the shop wearing his new garments. Mr. Twilfitt had said he would dispose of his old ones. He was grateful for his new clothes but Harry didn't think he liked Mr. Twilfitt much.

_'__Now can we get our wand? Or do you want do some more clothes shopping?'_

The Other was broadcasting exasperation and annoyance.

"Yes, there no need to be rude about it,"

A witch standing next to Harry looked at him oddly. He ignored her and made his way to a shop that said Ollivander's.


	4. Chapter 3: Wands and Witches

**Chapter 3: Wands and Witches**

Ollivander's did not match Harry's idea of what a shop selling wands should look like. He thought it would be more mysterious but instead it looked well used and rather dusty. Aunt Petunia would not have approved. The shop was filled with shelves lined with long thing boxes. Not seeing anyone, Harry sat down on the little wooden chair by the door. Several minutes later, a voice spoke out of the shadows.

"Good afternoon,"

Harry jumped, falling out of the chair and he wasn't the only one surprised. The Other cursed and before Harry could even think about stopping him, had taken control of his body. The Other rolled on the floor away from the voice and frantically pated the sleeve of his right arm. The Other stood up, teeth clenched, patting the pockets of his new trousers. Harry realized that he was searching for a wand that wasn't there.

Then, as abruptly as he'd taken control, The Other released Harry, leaving him standing unsteadily. In front of him was a thin man in black robes with glasses that made his eyes seems bigger than they were. If Harry's reaction surprised him, the man did not show it but launched instead into an explanation of wands and how they chose the wizard rather than the other way around.

After his right arm was measured, Mr. Ollivander began handing him wands, talking the whole time about the wands he was giving him to try and other wands the man had sold. Harry wondered how the wand maker could possibly remember all the wands he sold, let alone all the people he'd sold them to. So far none of the wands he had tried had done anything, then Mr. Ollivander handed him a wand saying,

"Oak and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, rigid,"

Harry waved the wand which exploded, causing a shelf to collapse, sending wand boxes to the floor. Strangely this did not seem to upset Mr. Ollivander, who fixed the mess with a wave of his own wand. For the next twenty minutes, Harry tried wand after wand but nothing happened. Then he was handed a wand made of holly with a phoenix feather core and from the warm feeling in his arm he knew something was going to happen. Sure enough, as he waved the wand it shot out a shower of red and gold sparks from its tip.

"Curious… How curious…" Mr. Ollivander muttered.

When Harry asked him what was curious, he was told that his wand was brother to Voldemort's wand. He paid for the wand and left the store thinking about what the wand maker had said. He was hungry; it was past noon by now so he went into a shop called Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for lunch. While waiting behind a mother with two small children for his ice cream, Harry asked the Other about what Mr. Ollivander had said.

_'__It isn't as interesting as he makes it sound. It just means that our wands core's came from the same phoenix. The connection between our wands helped me in the past, maybe it will help us again.'_

"How did it help?" Harry asked.

Mr. Fortescue, who had just handed him a cone of chocolate almond fudge ice cream, gave him a strange look. Harry smiled nervously and left the shop, trying to keep his voice down as he talked to the Other.

_'__It is a long story, I'll tell you another time. What do you want to do next? You don't have to get your supplies all at once, you know. We could come back tomorrow or another day.'_

"I want to,"

_'__Alright then_,' the Other was amused. '_You'll need to buy a trunk next, then. Your rucksack can't hold anything more. You should get one spelled bigger on the inside so it will hold more.'_

This was true. Even though Madam Malkin and Mr. Twilfitt had magically shrunk the clothes Harry purchased, the rucksack was so full nothing else would fit. The Other directed him to a shop with the words Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment written in gold letters above the door. A bell rang as he entered. The shop was dimly lit and strewn with things without any regard to their function—or so it appeared to Harry.

Stack of chess boards were right next to a heap of brass scales. One wall was nearly lined with clocks of varying shapes and sizes. Harry notice that many of them did not have the usual twelve numbers on their faces; some did not have any numbers at all. In a corner, several dozen telescopes were precariously stacked. He made his way to the right hand wall where trunks made of leather and wood were piled.

Harry examined a few trunks to see if any was bigger on the inside but they all looked like ordinary trunks to him. He gave it up as a bad job and went to the counter at the back of the store. There a young witch with shoulder length black hair was sitting, leaning her chair back on two legs she hadn't noticed Harry because she was engrossed in reading a magazine tilted 'Witch Weekly'.

"Er, excuse me?"

The witch started and leaned back too far in her chair, which fell over backwards. She got to her feet, swearing vehemently. Harry felt his face redden.

"Sorry!" he said.

"No, no, it's my fault. I didn't hear you come in," She straightened her violet robes and fished her wand out of her pocket.

"What can I do for you?"

Harry saw her looking at his new clothes and flattened his bangs nervously.

"I need a trunk for school," he explained. "Can you make it bigger on the inside than a regular trunk?"

"Course I can. Anything else you want on it?"

"Um…what do _you_ think I should get?"

"All of our standard trunks come spell and wear resistant as well as water and fireproof. You could throw one of our trunks in a lake and it would stay dry. But if you're going to be in the dorms, I suggest you get a locking charm that's keyed to your wand. That way no one can prank or steal your stuff. I'd also recommend a lightening charm. Not a feather light one, that's too suspicious if a muggle ever happens to lift your trunk. I'd go with an empty weight charm, that way your trunk will always feel like its empty no matter what you put in it."

Harry nodded, glad he asked. "I want my trunk with all the stuff you said."

The witch smiled and went to where the trunks were stacked and selected a black leather trunk. She came back and placed it on the counter and taped it several times with her wand. Harry watched her intently wanting to see someone do real magic. He was interrupted by the Other.

_'__Ask her if she as any wand holsters.''_

"Not now," Harry muttered.

"Hmm?" The witch looked at him. Harry shook his head at her.

_'__I haven't asked you to do something today, yet_,' the Other reminded him. '_You still owe me three things.'_

Harry groaned softly to himself. He had been hoping the Other would forget about that but since they had come to truce several months ago, but not a day had gone by without the Other asking him to do the agreed upon three things. Something's he was asked to do were easy, like nicking more food from the refrigerator than he normal would. Something's were hard, like the sit-ups, pushups and arm exercises the Other asked him to do most mornings. And somethings didn't make any sense at all, like last month, when everyday he'd been told to borrow Uncle Vernon's fountain pen and copy a page from the dictionary onto a blank piece of paper.

"What kind of lining do you want?" The witch asked.

"What?"

"The lining of your trunk. Do you want it in leather or velvet maybe?"

"Um…what do you think is best?"

"The best? That would be the cedar lining. It's expensive though. It'll cost you five extra Galleons but cedar's very magic resistant and it'll make your clothes smell good."

"What do you want something that's magic resistant inside a trunk?"

The witch smiled brightly. "Because it helps prevent the things you store inside from interacting with each other. Like if you have a pair of onmioculars and a ward stone in there, the ward stone's magical distortion field won't ruin the onmioculars. Cedar also makes it so if someone were to curse your trunk, the things inside shouldn't be affected. Unless it's a really bad curse." She added.

"I see," Harry didn't really. He had only understood less than half of what the witch had said but he was too embarrassed to ask more.

_'__Ask her about the wand holsters.' _

"I'll take the cedar. Do you have any wand holsters?"

The witch's eyebrows rose. "You're a bit young to be into dueling already,"

_'__Tell her your father was a duelist. It true, sort of.'_

"My father was a duelist," Harry repeated.

"Oh! You'll be wanting a dragon hide one, then. With anti-summoning charms and hex proofing too, I'll bet. For five Sickles I can add an extending charm on the straps, that way you can wear it as a leg hostler if you want?

_'__Ask for and an invisibility charm on it.' _

"That sounds good. Um… My Dad told me to get an invisibility charm on it."

Once again the witch's eyebrows rose at Harry. Then she shrugged and continued talking.

"Not to insult you dad but that's a bad idea. Invisibility charms wear off, especially if they're exposed to a lot of other spells. A disillusionment charm is much better and works just as well."

"I'll get that and all the other stuff you said, then" Harry said quickly, before the Other could protest. Instead the Other said something unrelated.

_'__Why don't you get yourself a chess set? Everyone in the wizarding world plays and it will help you with logic and strategy.'_

Harry thought that sounded boring but told the witch that he was going to look around and found a bookshelf in the center of the store that was full of chess sets. Hoping that the Other would protest, he chose what was clearly the most expensive set. The board was made of checked marble and ebony while the pieces were carved from jet and ivory. He came back and placed the set on the counter.

"I'd like this too,"

The witch nodded and the Other said nothing but Harry could feel his amusement. After a few minutes, the witch, whom had been saying what sounded like nonsense words and tapping the trunk and holster with her wand, spoke.

"Alright, that's five Galleons for the standard trunk, plus another five for the cedar lining, and three Galleons for the spellwork. That's thirteen Galleons total. Its four Galleons for the standard dragon hide wand holster, then three Galleons for the anti-summoning, disillusionment and hex proofing charms, and the five Sickles for an extending charm on the straps. That'll be seven Galleons and five Sickles. So if its seven Galleons for the holster, thirteen for the trunk, and twenty for the chess set, that comes to a total of forty Galleons and five Sickles."

Harry withdrew the money from the pouch in his rucksack. The witch offered to show him how to put on his wand holster and he agreed. The holster was made of what looked like black scaly leather. It consisted of a stiff leather strip about three inches wide and ten inches long, in the center of which another piece of leather created a sheath just big enough for a wand to slide into. From this strip, which went on the underside of his forearm, three small straps buckled over the top of his forearm to keep the holster in place.

The witch showed him that if he flicked his wrist in a certain way, his wand would slide smoothly out of the holster and into his hand. She also showed him how to extend the straps so he could wear it on his leg. Finally, when Harry was surprised that his holster had taken on the color and texture of his forearm, she explained that the disillusionment charm on it was activated by body heat. Feeling satisfied, he left the store with his new wand in its new holster pulling his new trunk, which felt empty despite having his rucksack in it, behind him.


	5. Chapter 4: Books and Bargains

**Chapter 4: Books and Bargains**

_'__Where to next?'_ the Other asked.

"Um…" Harry opened his trunk and rummaged through his rucksack until he found his Hogwarts acceptance letter.

"It says I need a caldron, a telescope and a set of brass scales, some phials and all these books…"

_'__Flourish and Blotts is in the north side of the Alley.'_

Flourish and Blotts turned out to be a bookstore. It was brightly lit and entirely full of bookshelves. Looking at his booklist, Harry examined the shelves until he found the eight books he needed: _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _and _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection._

The Other had him pursue the shelves until he had so many books he was forced to put them down in several stacks on the floor. After what seemed like an hour, the Other had him sit down by the stacks and skim through the books, putting the ones he was going to buy in piles on his left and the ones to return to the shelves in piles on his right. It was the most boring thing Harry had done all day. He didn't understand most of what he was reading. A lot of the books were clearly intended for older people and they all were filled with strange words he didn't recognize.

The Other seemed keen on books about hexing and cursing and the Dark Arts. In one of the plies he was keeping were seven books that unfortunately weren't as interesting as their titles suggested. There was _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions, Curses and Counter-Curses _and_ Confronting the Faceless_ a book with very disturbing pictures that made Harry regret eating his ice cream. There was also _The Dark Arts Outsmarted, Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts_ and _Self-Defensive Spellwork _all of which he could barely understand and the _Guide to Advanced Occlumency _which he couldn't understand at all.

The only book out of the whole pile he thought he might be able to get through was _Dark Arts Defense: Basics for Beginners _which the Other had wanted to put in the return pile because it was too simple. Harry had argued and the Other had relented so long as he agreed to read it. It probably was a stupid thing to fight about but Harry was getting tired of the Other telling him what to do all the time.

"Can I help you?"

Harry started at the voice and once again the Other took control of his body, smoothly flicking his new wand from its holster into his hand. Standing above them was a tall man in black robes with the name of the shop embroidered on them. He was looking at the stacks of books surrounding Harry with disapproval. Recovering from his surprise, Harry tried to take control back but the Other did not relinquish this time.

"I'd like _The Standard Book of Spells _Grades two through seven by Miranda Goshawk, please," Harry heard himself say. "I would also like _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ by Miranda Goshawk, and _A Guide to Intermediate Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch. And I'd like _Advanced Potion-Making_ by Libatius Borage," Harry felt himself gesture at all the books stacked on his left. "And all these books too. Oh, and _Hogwart A History _if you have it."

The storekeeper's dark eyebrows rose as the Other spoke but he just nodded and moving his wand in a sweeping motion, sent the books in the keeper piles to the counter near the front of the store that had an old fashion glass lamp on it. Harry felt himself slide his wand back into its holster and stand up brushing the dust off his new clothes. He felt his face twist into what was probably a grimace as he looked down at the black shirt, the white buttons flashing in the light of the shop.

_'__I wish you hadn't bought theses, it makes us look a right twit.'_

Harry was starting to panic, trying to wrest control from the Other. It had been months since he'd had to fight him and he was out of practice. He should have known better that to trust the Other to keep his word. Harry heard himself sigh and caught a wisp of emotion that wasn't his: regret laced with frustration. The Other released him so suddenly he stumbled slightly, breathing heavily in relief.

_'__I always keep my promises.'_

The thought was filled with determination and some darker emotion that Harry couldn't identify but made him shudder. He made his way to the counter were the man was adding up his book purchases on what looked like an abacus whose black beads were moving of their own accord. He shook his head in bemusement, wondering if the wizarding world was always this strange.

_'__Actually, it's usually much stranger. You get used to it.'_

"If you say so," Harry muttered doubtfully.

The store keeper looked at him. "Did you say something?" he asked.

"Oh, I er, I was just—"

_'__Ask him if he has any books on dueling.'_

"I was wondering if you had any book on dueling?" Harry finished, feeling slightly foolish.

"Interested in dueling are you? Not many boys your age are. It was popular oh, thirty or so years back but things change…I think we still have some books on it somewhere…"

He disappeared behind one of the many shelves and returned with three books, two were small and one was large and bound in brown leather. The storekeeper put them on the counter and pointed his wand at the abacus whose beads began to move and clink rapidly. Harry peered at the books on dueling. The two smaller ones were titled _The Dueler's Companion _and _Dueling for Beginners_. The leather bound one was embossed with gold letters that read: _Rules and Regulations in Dueling from the 15__th__ to the 20__th__ Century_.

"That will be eighty Galleons, seven Sickles and three Knuts." the man behind the counter said.

Harry opened his truck and dug out the coins putting them in a large pile on the counter. He then spent several minuets placing the books into his expanded trunk. He thanked the store keeper and left the shop and then walked down Diagon Alley until he saw a sign that said Potage's Cauldron Shop. There he bought two caldrons, the pewter one that was on his list and a copper self-stirring one at the Other's insistence.

Several stores down from the caldron shop was Slugs &amp; Jiggers Apothecary. The store was dimly lit with a sharp sent to the air that made Harry's nose itch. The Other made him get twice as much supplies as his potions kit required and some other things that weren't on the list at all. He also bought several dozen differently sized crystals phials.

Outside the store, the sun was setting, casting a ruddy light on the buildings in the Alley. Harry stood beside the door to the apothecary and spent some time trying to arrange everything in his trunk and to make room for the velvet lined box that held his set of brass scales. He felt hungry but there were still things he need to get like parchment and quills. He look down the alley wondering if he should get some dinner of finish shopping first.

_'__You don't have to buy everything at once, you know. You have a month until school starts. Why don't you go back to the Leaky Caldron and get a room for the night? You could eat there too.'_

Harry scowled but the Other's idea was a good one and it was stupid to disagree with him just to be contrary.

_'__I wish you felt like that more often_,' The Other interjected in a dry tone.

"Shut up!"

A witch in scarlet robes who happened to be passing by looked at him in askance. Harry felt his face burning. He decided to take the Other's advice and go back to the pub. Harry would not have admitted it out loud but the thought of staying in the Alley after dark made him nervous for some reason. Maybe living with Dudley had made him paranoid. Or maybe it was having a voice in his head that wasn't his.

_'__You're not paranoid if people really are out to get you. There's quite a few of wizards out there who'd be happy if we turned up dead.'_

Trying not to think about that last comment, Harry made his way back to the Leaky Caldron.


	6. Chapter 5: The Hogwarts Express

**Chapter 5:** **The Hogwarts Express**

Harry took one last look around the room that had been his home for the last six weeks. It was the smallest room that the Leaky Caldron rented but it still seemed big to Harry whom, up until now, had a cupboard as a bedroom. As much as he was looking forward to Hogwarts, Harry felt sad to be leaving the room that had become more of a home to him than Number Four Privet Drive had ever been.

He had packed his trunk the night before with all of his books and supplies and locked his snowy owl, Snowflake, in her cage.

"Are you ready to go, girl?" he asked the sleeping bird gently. She opened one amber eye and hooted softly.

"Let's go get some breakfast, Snowflake."

_'__Stupid name for an owl…' _

The Other muttered and Harry could feel his annoyance. A month ago when Harry had seen the snowy owl in Eeylops Owl Emporium the Other had insisted on buying her. Harry was not sure he wanted an owl but bought her anyway. The Other had wanted to call her Head Wig or some strange name like that but Harry had refused. Snowflake was a much nicer name for a snowy owl anyway.

He made his way down the stairs to the main room of the Leaky Caldron, very grateful that he had gotten his trunk spelled so it always felt as if it was empty.

"Moring Mr. Dursley. Today's the big day, right?" Tom the bartender and landlord greeted him.

The Other had warned Harry that it would not be good to have it know that Harry Potter was staying at the Leaky Caldron. When Tom had asked him his name Harry had said the first thing he could think of. Tom thought he was a boy named Dudley Dursley whom was renting a room until school started because his parents were on holiday in France and couldn't make sure he got to Hogwarts on time.

The old barman didn't ask questions for which Harry was grateful. Still, his second day in Diagon Alley the Other had made him go to Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions store and buy a magical concealer that covered his scar so he wouldn't have to worry about it showing through his bangs. Harry had also been forced to buy some hair cream that made his unruly hair lie flat by Madam Primpernelle, the store owner. He had been afraid she wouldn't let him leave her store otherwise.

The stuff really worked too, Harry thought as he looked at his reflection in the large mirror that was over the fireplace. With his nice new clothes and well groomed hair he looked nothing like the scruffy urchin the kids in Little Whinging had made fun of. He looked like he had gained some weight too, eating three large meals every day, and maybe he was a little taller. Harry hoped so, he hated always being the smallest kid in his class.

He sat down at a table and Tom brought him his usual breakfast of scrambled eggs, kippers and toast with a glass of pumpkin juice, which Harry though tasted like pumpkin pie. He found he could only nibble at his toast. He was too nervous and his stomach felt unsettled. After picking at his eggs for a few minutes, he gave it up, said his farewell to Tom and walked out the door to Charring Cross road.

Harry had never been to Muggle London before and it took him several seconds to get used to the noise and smell of the cars. After living for six weeks in Diagon Alley he had almost forgotten what the Muggle world was like. And there were so many people! Diagon Alley had sometimes seemed crowded, especially as September the first neared and families came to do their school shopping, but Harry suspected it was more because of the narrowness of the street than because of the amount of people.

It took him twenty minutes to find a taxi that would take a young boy with an owl in a cage the two and a half miles to King's Cross station. Once inside, Harry eyed the wall between platforms nine and ten. Though the Other had told him how to get onto platform nine and three quarters last night, Harry though that the barrier looked very solid. He walked up to it, dragging his trunk behind him. Then looking around him to see if anyone was watching, he closed his eyes and walked through, half expecting to smack into the wall.

Harry opened his eyes. Before him was a scarlet steam engine, gently puffing smoke into the air. The platform was full of people dressed in robes and cloaks and Harry wondered if he should put his school uniform on. As Harry got on the train, the Other tried to direct him to a certain compartment but Harry ignored him and made his way to the back of the train and took the last compartment, which was empty.

Before putting his trunk in the overhead store he took out his book _Dueling for Beginners _to read. He had read more books in the last month than he had ever read in his whole life. Of the three things that the Other would make him do every day one of them was usually reading for an hour or two. Luckily, his new textbooks were interesting and the book's the Other had bought were even more so. The _Dueling for Beginners _book was his favorite because of all the animated pictures of people preforming spells in it.

_'__You should go meet your classmates, I can show you the ones you will get along with.'_

"Are you asking me or telling me? Cause I already did the exercises this morning and I read what you wanted out_ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. You only have one more thing left today." Harry replied.

He knew that the Other felt conflicted and he was silent for several moments. Harry hoped he would insist on meeting people, that way he could get the three things out of the way before lunch. To his mild disappointment, the Other said he didn't want to waste his last demand of the day on something like this but he was clearly unhappy about it.

The train began moving and Harry settled into his seat and began reading, ignoring the Other who was radiating frustration and annoyance. He was interrupted sometime later when a lady came into his compartment asking if he wanted to buy any food off her trolley. As he already had sweets in his trunk that he had bought in Diagon Alley, he got some savory Pumpkin Pasties. He found that his stomach felt better and he was able to eat the lot.

Just as he was getting back to his reading, the compartment door opened and a girl with bushy brown hair and a slightly overweight boy walked in. Harry felt a sharp pang of sadness, regret and hope emanating from the Other, so powerful that he couldn't breathe for a second. Before he could say anything the girl started talking very fast.

"I'm Hermione Granger, this is Neville Longbottom. He's lost his pet toad Trevor, have you seen him? Oh are you reading? What book is it? I've already read all of my school books, of course. I didn't even know I was a witch until a few month ago, there is so much to learn and I hope I won't be too far behind. What did you say your name was?"

Harry blinked, wondering how she had managed to say all that without taking a breath. He felt the Other's amusement and nostalgia. Closing the book, he showed her the cover. He paused for a moment to see if she would start talking again, then introduced himself.

"I'm Harry Potter, I've already read my school books too, this is just for fun, I—"

"Are you _really_?" Hermione Granger interrupted.

"Am I really what? Harry asked, bewildered.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" She said as though this was obvious.

"Er, yes?"

"I've read all about you! You're in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and—"

"Oh, _that_." Harry said. The Other had warned him about this.

"You said you were looking for a toad?" he tried to distract the girl.

"Trevor is always escaping," the boy said apologetically.

Harry flicked his wrist liked he'd practiced a thousand times and his wand slid into his hand from his holster. He concentrated for a moment before flicking the wand.

"Accio Trevor the toad," he said.

From outside the compartment a toad flew into his hand, where it croaked.

"Trevor!" Neville said at the same time Hermione said "How did you do that?"

"It's in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. But it doesn't usually work on vertebrates unless they're fish. I thought it might work on a toad because they're amphibians." Harry explained.

"You've read The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry shrugged, not explaining that, while he_ had_ learned this spell from _The Standard Book of Spells_, it was because it was one of the dozens of spells the Other had made him learn in these last few weeks.

"But aren't you a First Year?" she asked as Harry handed Neville his toad.

"Yes, I am. Carful he's escaping again!" he warned Neville as Trevor leaped out of the boy's pocket.

"Trevor, here." the boy gave him some small pellets and the toad stop moving to eat them.

"They're toad treats," he explained. "He's happy as a clam once he gets them,"

"I've always thought that was a queer saying, 'happy as a clam'. I mean, clams don't strike me as particularly happy creatures and even if they were, how would you possibly know?" Hermione said.

Neville exchanged a look with Harry, who could feel the Other laughing.

"I… do you want to sit down?" he asked awkwardly. He could not remember the last time anyone his age was nice to him and he wasn't entirely sure what to do next.

"Alright, thank you. For finding my toad, I mean." Neville said.

As Neville sat down beside him, Harry wondered if the boy was just doing it to get away from Hermione, who had pick up Harry's book and was skimming through it. Harry felt vaguely annoyed that she hadn't asked his permission first but didn't say anything.

"I thought dueling was just when two wizard's fought," Hermione said, still looking at the book.

"No! It's a noble and ancient sport," Neville said, sounding more animated than Harry had yet heard.

"I m-mean," he stuttered as both Harry and Hermione looked at him. "My parents were duelists," he finished softly.

"Then you'll want to join the dueling club at Hogwarts with me? If they have one," Harry asked, glad to have found something in common with the boy.

"Oh, probably not. I'm not very good at magic. I'm practically a squib." Neville answered, looking downcast.

"What's a squib?" Hermione asked.

"It's someone born to magical parent but who can't do magic," Harry explained, having come across the term in his reading and having the Other inform him.

"Well, I don't think they would allow someone into Hogwarts if they couldn't do magic," she said authoritatively.

_'__She's right, you know. Neville will grow up to be a great wizard, strong too. He just lacks confidence,' _the Other said.

"Shut up," Harry responded.

Hermione looked affronted.

"Not you," Harry corrected. "I was talking to myself. I do that a lot. My aunt says it's because I'm touched in the head."

Now Hermione looked stricken.

_'__Probably because you said that last sentence as if it is normal_,' the Other said, a mixture of amusement and sadness coming from him.

"Are you?" Neville asked quietly.

"Neville!" Hermione chastised.

"Yes," Harry said. "I think I probably am."


	7. Chapter 6: Draco Malfoy

**Chapter 6: Draco Malfoy**

There was an awkward silence in the compartment. Harry fidgeted in his seat as Hermione started reading his book again. He wanted it back but wasn't sure how to ask her. Neville looked just as uncomfortable as he did. He thought about what he should talk about and asked the first thing that came to mind.

"What did you do this summer?"

"Nothing very interesting," the boy said. "The Manor has some greenhouses that I helped Gran—that's my Grandmother, fix them up. Next summer they should be ready for planting.

"You like gardening?" this surprised Harry. He had been made to do lots of gardening by Aunt Petunia and it had been hot, sweaty work that he couldn't imagine anyone enjoying.

"Oh, Yes. I've always liked plants," he sounded somewhat embarrassed.

"You'll be good at herbology then. And probably potions too. You use a lot of plant ingredients in potions." Harry remarked.

"I never thought of it like that before," Neville said slowly. "Gran says that I'm so uncoordinated that I'll be rubbish at charms because I'll never get the wand movements right. She also says I lack the imagination to be good at transfiguration."

"That's horrible!" Hermione said, looking up from Harry's book. "No one should say that about their grandson."

"She's probably right, though. She usually is," he added in an undertone.

"You should focus on potions, then." Harry said before Hermione could reply. "You don't have to use a wand to make potions and you already know about the plant ingredients."

"I've read that if you can get your Mastery in potions you can make a lot of money. You should try to learn from the Potion's Master, Severus Snape. I read that he was youngest person in over a hundred years to get his Mastery when he was only nineteen. He must be brilliant." Hermione enthused. "He's also the head of Slytherin House."

"What house do you think you will get into?" Harry asked. He knew which House the Other wanted him in but he was not so sure.

"I don't know, Ravenclaw would wonderful, of course, but I have heard that Albus Dumbledore was in Gryffindor and he is considered the greatest wizard of our time. Slytherin wouldn't be so bad either, I supposes. They are known for cleverness and ambition…." She trailed off.

"I wouldn't want to be in Slytherin," Neville said. "A lot of dark wizards have been in that house. And they hate muggleborns."

Hermione looked outraged but before she could say anything, Harry asked Neville what House he wanted to be in.

"I want to be in Gryffindor, like my parents." Neville said quietly. "But I'm not sure I'm brave enough. What about you, Harry?"

He was prevented from answering because the compartment door opened and a boy in black robes with blonde hair entered. Once again Harry experienced a strange mix of emotions from the Other: anger, guilt and frustration. The boy crossed his arms and wore an expression of smug condescension that for some reason made Harry tense in his seat.

"I've heard Harry Potter is on this train," the boy drawled. Neville and Hermione both turned to look at Harry.

"Yes?" he replied, feeling confused.

The boy introduced himself as the Other said '_His father probably told Draco to look for us.'_

"You'll find that some wizards are better than others, Potter." Malfoy said, sneering at his companions. "I can introduce you to the right sort, if you'd like."

Hermione made an affronted sound but he barely heard because the Other wrested control of his body before he could stop him or even put up a fight. Harry felt himself surreptitiously flick his wand into his hand from its holster. The Other straightened in the seat, griping his wand tightly, yet when he spoke his tone was nonchalant.

"Are the right sort Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban? Or is that only your dad?"

Draco went red and Harry heard Neville gasp beside him.

"You dare insult my father!"

"I'll insult your mother too, if you like." the Other said lightly.

Neville made a noise that was a cross between a snigger and a choke while Hermione stifled what sounded like an involuntary snort.

"Did you just laugh at me, mudblood?" Draco said and Neville gasped.

"Don't call her that!" Neville said angrily.

"Or you'll what? I know who you are, Longbottom. My father told me you're a squib. How much did your grandmother have to bribe Dumbledore to let you into Hogwarts?"

Neville looked stricken.

"Don't ever speak that way to my friends, Malfoy." The Other said in a quiet, dangerous voice.

"Or you'll what, Potter?" he spat.

"I'll defeat you the same way I defeated Voldemort." The Other stated simply. Both Neville and Draco flinched.

"I'd like to see you try!"

Neville shouted a warning as Draco withdrew his wand from his robe pocket but the Other was ready for him and, aiming his wand almost casually, incanted "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Draco's whole body rigid, arms snapped to his sides and his legs sprang together. He swayed and fell backwards out of the compartment door. The Other released him and Harry found himself trembling with residual anger and strangely, fear.

"You're going to get in so much trouble!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No he's not. Malfoy drew first, so he's at fault. Harry was just faster. Besides, he deserved it after he called you a… after he called you that name."

"What does it mean?" Hermione asked.

"It's a really bad word," Neville muttered. "Only people like the Malfoy's who think that muggleborn's are worthless, use it."

Hermione stared at the fallen boy who was stiff as a board, his eyes frozen wide.

"Did you mean what you said, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, thinking it was terribly unfair that he was held responsible for what the Other said.

"The part about us being friends?"

"Oh, that." He was glad she hadn't asked about anything else the Other said. "Er, yes? I mean, we are friends, aren't we?"

"I've never really had any friends," Hermione said in a small voice. "So I wouldn't know."

Harry shrugged, feeling relieved. "Neither have I… do you want to be friends?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, quickly. They turned to Neville who was frowning.

"I've never had anyone stand up for me before," he said quietly.

"I don't see why not," Hermione said. "You're a nice person, Neville."

"Thanks… but you know, I've never really had a friend, either." he admitted, looking embarrassed.

"Guess we'll have to figure it out for ourselves then." Harry tried to joke because the silence was getting awkward.

Neville laughed and Hermione smiled.

"You really are good at dueling, Harry. No wonder you want to join a club." Neville complemented.

Harry bit lip, he wanted to say that it hadn't been him that won the fight but wasn't sure how.

"What was the spell you used?" Hermione asked.

"It's called the Full Body-Bind Curse. It is Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian." he answered.

The curse had been one of the spells he had been forced to memorize. A part of him was angry that the Other had interfered, Harry could fight his own battles. Harry supposed he should be grateful the Other hadn't used anything more dangerous against Draco. From what he had read in his books there were some really nasty spells out there. He did not doubt the Other could have done something terrible to the boy.

_'__I don't make a habit of terribly cursing eleven years old boys,'_ the Other retorted drily.

"What are we going to do with him?" Hermione asked, gesturing at Draco's still form.

"Drag him into the hall, someone will find him." Neville suggested.

They could not think of a better idea, so Harry helped his new friend drag Draco's paralyzed body into the train's hallway, which was thankfully deserted. They went back to their compartment and closed the door behind them. They changed into their school robes at Hermione's suggestion and she and Neville went to their old compartment to revive their trunks.

When they had changed and were seated again, Harry asked Neville to play a game of chess with him as Hermione had returned to reading his book. He fished his chess set out of his trunk and set it up on an empty seat. He was mildly surprised when the pieces started to move of their own accord when he took them out of their box but he jumped with they began talking.

"You've never played wizard chess before?" Neville asked, clearly wondering at his reaction.

"No," he admitted. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle, their muggles, and they don't much like magic."

"Oh, I'll go easy on you, then." Harry could tell that the boy wanted to ask more but wasn't sure how.

"How about you? You said your parents are duelists?"

Neville shook his head, his shoulders slumped. "They _were _duelists. They are in St. Mungo's. now. I was raised by my grandmother."

_'__His parents were tortured into insanity by Death Eaters,'_ The Other said and Harry felt the blood drain from his face.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly.

Neville shrugged but would not look him in the eye, staring at the chessboard instead. Harry lost spectacularly three games in a row. He could not remember having so much fun. They would have played a fourth game but the train was slowing down and soon the entered into the station. The three of them got their trunks and made their way off the train. As they passed Draco, who was still motionless on the floor of the train, he was surprised by the regret and determination emanating from the Other.

_'__Malfoy was one of the first people I had to kill, you know. I didn't want to, but the stupid kid chose the wrong side_. _And I'll do it again if I have to.'_

Harry felt a thrill of horror run down his spine at those words.


	8. Chapter 7: The Sorting Hat

**A/N: Hey look, an actual update! It's only been, what, a year** **almost? I went back and fixed most of this story's spelling and grammatical errors after read it online and being embarrassed by it. Seriously, I can't believe anyone read this thing…**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Sorting Hat**

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a giant of a man called. He had long tangles of bushy black hair and a beard that hid most of his face.

The first years followed the large man to the edge of a lake where a small fleet of boats were docked along the shore. The three new friends climbed in to a boat and Neville, caching his foot on the edge, tumbled face first into it. The giant introduced himself as Hagrid, the school's gamekeeper, and he taped his boat with a pink umbrella and they all started to glide silently across the lake. There was a gasp from the students and Harry felt a sharp pang of nostalgia from the Other as Hogwarts Castle came into view, its turrets and towers dark against the start sky. The boats ran themselves again the shore of the lake that was nearest the castle and they disembarked.

They walked briskly in the cool night air, making their way to the large wooden doors that were the only visible entrance. Hagrid opened the door to reveal a massive hall that could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house. The grey stone walls were lined with flaming torches and suits of armor; the ceiling was too high for Harry to make out. On the right wall was a large marble staircase leading to the upper floors. Across from the stairs were a pair of oak doors. Set into the walls on either side of the door were four giant hourglasses, taller than Harry was, each containing what appeared to be red, blue, green and yellow gems in their upper bulbs.

Standing next to the hourglass with yellow gems was a tall, severe looking woman with black hair, dressed in emerald-green robes. Beside her, scowling and red-faced, was Draco Malfoy. Harry, Hermione and Neville avoided meeting Malfoy's eyes but Harry could sense the boy's glare as the woman introduced herself as Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration professor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be Sorted into your houses," the professor said.

She went on to briefly explain the Houses and then opened the door to reveal a room even larger than the hall they were in. Sitting at four long tables laid with golden plates and goblets were the rest of the school's students. At the other end of the hall another table, perpendicular to the others, was where the teachers were sitting. Thousands of candles floated in midair, illuminating the room with their flickering light. Harry was not the only one to gasp as they glanced at the ceiling that, for all appearances, looked as if it was open to the star strewn sky. He knew it was enchanted from reading _Hogwarts A History_ but seeing it was another thing. Harry and his friends walked down the aisle singled file and were instructed to stand by the staff table.

Before this table was a stool upon which a rather tatty wizard's hat sat.

Harry jumped slightly as a rip near the brim opened like a mouth and the hat began to sing in a loud voice that echoed slightly in the Great hall. The song was about the qualities sought by four founders of Hogwarts for their respective Houses. Harry frowned, shifting his feet. This was a point of contention between him and the Other. The Other wanted him to be in Gryffindor but Harry wasn't sure he was brave enough. The trouble was that he didn't think he fit into any of the Houses. He wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw, ambitious enough for Slytherin or even particularly hardworking that would be required for Hufflepuff.

Professor McGonagall started calling names alphabetically. One by one, the students came and tried on the Sorting Hat which announced in its booming voice the House to which the student now belonged.

"Davis, Tracey." Harry was barely paying attention, he was so nervous.

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione gave him a tremulous smile and went to sit on the stool. They were forced to wait for some time as the Hat deliberated. After five minutes, some students at the tables began talking but were silenced with looks from Professor McGonagall. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the hat spoke in a tone that almost sounded reluctant.

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione, beaming, went to sit at the table with the students wearing red ties who were clapping loudly and Harry was surprised to feel relief coming from the Other.

Several students later, Professor McGonagall called out. "Longbottom, Neville,"

"Good luck, Harry," Neville whispered and made his way to the stool, visibly trembling.

Less than a minute later the hat cried, "Gryffindor!"

Neville looked both surprised and pleased as he went to sit next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"Malfoy, Draco."

The second the hat touched the blond boy's head it yelled, "Slytherin!"

_'No surprise there,'_ The Other said. '_You must tell the hat that you want to be in Gryffindor_. _This is the last thing I want you to do today. Tell the hat you want Gryffindor.'_

"What if I don't want to be in Gryffindor?" Harry muttered, angry that the Other had cornered him like this.

"Patil, Padma," Professor McGonagall said. The Indian girl became a Ravenclaw while her twin sister was put in Gryffindor.

'_We've talked about this. Gryffindor is the best place for you. I promise you you'll love it_," the Other said, exasperation and frustration emanating from him.

"Potter, Harry." the hall went quiet then very loud as everyone seemed to turn to their neighbors to whisper.

Harry sat down on the stool and when the hat was placed on his head it was so large that it slid over his eyes, leaving him in total darkness.

'Well, well, this is something that I have never seen before. Two minds in one body, eh? And both of you are Mr. Potter. How curious.'

The voice was in his head but it didn't sound like the Other.

"I want to be in Gryffindor," he whispered to get it over with.

'_Do you truly_?' the hat asked. "_You cannot lie to me boy, I'm in your head. It's the other Mr. Potter that wants to be in Gryffindor. But you do not want to be in the House of the Lion, do you?_'

'_Damn hat!_' the Other snarled. '_You must put him where he belongs_!'

'_That is what we are attempting to determine,_' the hat said. '_I can see you have already been sorted. It is the other Mr. Potter that I must find a House for._'

'_Then you should be able to see that he needs to be in Gryffindor or else people may die_!'

Harry winced as the Other shouted.

'_Be that as it may, I must do what is best for young Harry here not what may or may not be best for anyone else_,' the hat replied firmly.

'_Please,_' the Other begged and Harry was surprise as he had never heard him sound like that before.

'_I'm sorry,_' the hat said sadly.

"_If you put Harry in another House and anyone dies because of it, I'll light you on fire_.' Harry flinched at the cold certainly in the Other's tone, sensing the anger and hopelessness he was now feeling.

The hat ignored the Other. '_So you do not feel like you belong in Gryffindor. You have cunning enough for Slytherin but I can see you do not wish to be placed there, certainly not after your encounter with Mr. Malfoy._'

Harry nodded his head vigorously in agreement, wondering for a brief moment if the Other would incinerate the hat if it put him in Slytherin.

'_You do not have the love of learning that characterizes a Ravenclaw. Yet you possess the loyalty and dedication of a Hufflepuff. You would do well in Helga's House_,' the hat said and Harry heard the Other snort, radiating irritation.

Harry pushed the hat up so he could see and glanced at the Hufflepuff table, trying to imagine himself as one of them. But then his gaze shifted to where Neville and Hermione, siting at the Gryffindor table, were watching him with anxious faces.

"I want to be in Gryffindor,' he said quietly, watching Hermione bite her lip.

'_Are you certain?' _the hat asked._ 'You do not have to do what the other Mr. Potter wants, you know._'

"I know. But I want to be with my friends," Harry said and it must have been louder that he intended because people started talking.

"_Then you had better be in… _Gryffindor!" the last word the hat shouted aloud.

Harry placed the hat carefully back on the stool and went to sit between Neville and Hermione while the Gryffindor table gave him a thunderous applause.

'_Thank you_,' the Other said quietly.

"I didn't do it for you," Harry replied. He didn't think anyone could hear him over the din of his fellow Gryffindor's. Two redhead boys sitting by Neville were chanting "We got Potter! We got Potter!" while another older redhead that must be their brother tried unsuccessfully to stop them.

'_I know. You did it for them. Its better this way._'

For once Harry didn't disagree.


End file.
